


The Demons Within

by Shinigami_Mistress (Southern_Breeze)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-11 04:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13516581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Southern_Breeze/pseuds/Shinigami_Mistress
Summary: It was an unprecedented event; an organized attack on reapers by demons. Several are kidnapped and are left to the mercy and dark creativity of their demonic captives.  Survival isn't the only issue since no one knows the lasting effects of the demons' torture.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is story is very dark and has graphic depictions of rape, torture, murder, etc.

The constant hum of typewriters echoed off the white walls as the harsh lights reflected off countless glasses. A few workers walked down the hall towards the offices; their conversations nearly lost in the clacking of the keys, but all seemed to be busy and hard at work. It was a typical day at Dispatch.

 William sat silently in his office as his intelligent, two-toned eyes scanned the report in his hands. An ink pen sat on his desk in case there was needed corrections, but he reached for a stamp instead. With a swift motion, he stamped the paper as completed and put it in the ‘out’ tray. Adjusting his glasses, he looked over at the paperwork that still needed his attention, but the amount of work never seemed to change despite his diligent work. Wordlessly, he picked up the next report and went back to work; the only sound being the ever ticking clock on the far wall.

 A sudden knock interrupted the relative quiet. “Mr. Spears?” a nervous voice called, “I have an emergency message from Upper Management.”

 William set aside the report. “Come on,” Miss Fletcher,” he said, as he stood up.

 His secretary opened the door and swiftly walked across the floor. Her dark hair didn’t slip from its tight bun despite her speed, but there was an unusual tightness around her mouth. She handed the memo to him and took a step back.

 He adjusted his glasses again and read the letter.

 

 

 

> Urgent Message:
> 
> There has been a coordinated of demons on active reapers across multiple agency districts. All reapers should be recalled immediately and accounted for. No one is permitted to travel to the living realm until this matter has been satisfactorily resolved.
> 
> _J.W. Frederich_
> 
> Upper Management

 

 

“Miss Fletcher, go to personnel to get today’s schedule,” he said, “Send out emergency pigeons to anyone who is in the field that they are to return immediately without question.”

“Of course, Mr. Spears,” she said, as she spun around on her heel and rushed from the room.

William followed her as he hurried to the main office floor. “Attention everyone,” he said loudly.

The typing tapered off as did all conversations. Eyes turned towards him as a deafening silence briefly filled the space. “There has been some type of coordinated attack by demons,” he announced, “Because of this, there is to be no traveling to the living realm until further notice.”

“What sort of attack?” someone asked.

“I don’t know the details,” William replied, “I only just received notice. Pigeons are being sent to all those already in the field. For the time being, all collection agents should use this time to catch up on paperwork. Is this understood?”

There was a mumble of agreement, and William gave a small nod before turning around to go back to his own office, but then he paused. His eyes were locked on the small office that was currently being used by Grell and Ronald. Although neither was present, Grell’s chainsaw was setting on the desk.

“What’s he looking at?” a young reaper whispered.

“Sutcliff’s scythe is on his desk,” his companion whispered back.

“So?”

“How did you even make it through the academy?” asked the other reaper, “Don’t you remember what our instructors said? If a reaper thinks that they are in danger of having their scythe stolen or compromised, they are to send it back to our realm.”

“So, if Sutcliff’s scythe is here and he’s out in the field…”

“That’s enough talking,” William said sternly, “We all have a lot of work to do.”

The conversation ceased immediately, and the young reaper who had initiated the conversation paled considerably as he slumped under William’s gaze. He mouthed an apology as he turned back to his typewriter.

Dispatch in order, William walked back to his office and closed the door. Away from other eyes, he slumped against the door and let out a slow breath. “Please be okay, Grell,” he said quietly, “Please.”

After a few minutes, he returned to his desk and picked up a report to read it, but his eyes only kept scanning the same line again and again.

 

* * *

 

Grell slowly opened his eyes; wincing in the dull light. With a moan, he started to sit up, but his arms had been bound tightly behind his back. He struggled against his binding until his wrists bled, but he was no closer to being free. It was obvious that this material was unusual, but Grell continued to fight against his bonds for several minutes.

With a grumble, he finally paused in his struggles to look around the room. Little was visible. The walls appeared to be some sort of corroded, rusted metal; warped yet strong. The floor was made from a similar material, and it scratched at Grell's legs were his pants had been torn by the demons. The air was stuffy and stifling; the dry air pricking his eyes and tickling his throat.

These surroundings were unfamiliar to him, so he resumed his struggle; ignoring how the bindings cut into his wrist.

It’s no use, little reaper,” a voice purred from the shadows, “Those chains are especially designed for creatures with a bit more strength and fight than humans and work rather well against your kind.”

Grell jumped and turned around so suddenly he almost fell over as a dark figure silently entered the room. Only the stranger’s face was visible in the dim light; a face as pale and haunting as the moon. Ebony hair fell across the brow and almost into dark, soulless eyes. His features were perfectly formed as if a sculptor had expertly chiseled the aquiline nose and strong jaw.

“Sebas…” Grell started to say as he let his voice trail off. While the demon before him did look a bit like Sebastian at first glance, there was a different look to the dark eyes.

“I suppose I might look a bit like him at first glance,” the demon said, laughing lightly, “Does that interest you?” Just as he finished speaking, there was a loud click followed by a horrible hiss of steam. Multicolored lights began to flash on a far while with soft beeping and whirring noises before a yellow light lit up the space.

Grell was now able to get a full view of the speaker. He was tall; his height exaggerated by a tall, felt hat adorned with belts and buckles. His hair was black as night, and pulled back by a large, crimson velvet bow before spilling down the back of his black coat. A blood red broach was attached at the throat of his black, coat and the jewel seemed to almost dance in the poor lighting. Below the neck, his clothes seemed to almost merge with his body. There were no obvious sleeves or and end to the pants. His hands, which were adorned with long, claw-like nails, seemed to be the same color and material as his coat. He was a handsome yet horrible creature.

With exaggerated casualness, Grell managed to get to his feet. It was not easy as his hands were still bound and he had lost one of his boots at some point, but there was still a certain grace to his movements. “My mistake,” he said, “You aren’t nearly as handsome as Sebastian. However, you could still be useful.” He turned slightly to show his bound hands. “Untie me.”

The demon chuckled. “And why should I do that?”

Grell slowly smiled; revealing each and every fang. “Because I might be tempted to show you some mercy when I ultimately kill you.”

There was another laugh. “I see the rumors about you are true, Grell Sutcliff,” he said.

Grell’s smile disappeared immediately. “You know my name?”

“You’re rather...infamous among demons,” he said, “That’s part of the reason I brought you here. As for my name, you may call me King.”

“King?” Grell asked.

“Yes,” King replied, as his voice dropped to a low growl, “For I will be in complete dominion over you.”

“No one controls me,” Grell snarled, as he struggled again, “Let me go or I swear I’ll make you pay for this.”

With a sudden burst of speed, King leapt forward and tangled in claws painfully in Grell’s hair. Before he could protest, Grell was shoved towards a large opening that was devoid of glass. “You think you have any power here?” he demanded, “Look! Look where you are!”

Below the window there was more of the same dilapidated building, although now it appeared to more of a factory of sorts with ancient, rusted machinery. There were more demons - and more reapers. Grell watched in silence as reapers, who were hanging from suspended chains from the ceiling, were being beaten and tortured. Clothes were being torn along with skin, but most appeared to be unconscious. There were no screams for it appeared they were all exhausted beyond the point of words. As Grell watched, a young reaper that he knew all too well was suddenly shoved into the room, and fell heavily to the floor.

“Ronald!” Grell yelled.

Ronald looked up and in the direction of his senior’s voice, but a demon on the room descended upon the young reaper. He was dragged to a nearby wall where his hands were firmly chained to the rusted service. Another demon, this one bloated and bulging like a bit of rotted, spoiled fruit, stepped forward with a massive whip fitted with broken metal and shards of glass. The whip sailed through the air and sliced into Ronald’s flesh. He cried out in pain as blood stained his clothes.

“Welcome to Hell,” King whispered.

Grell spun around. “You bastard!” he hissed, “Why are you doing that to Ronnie? He’s a kid. If you want to torture someone, then try whipping me.”

King chuckled as he ran one long, sinewy finger through Grell’s hair. “From what I understand,” he said, “you just might enjoy it. Besides…” His voice trailed off as his eyes slipped down Grell’s body. “I have other plans for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Grell asked - jerking away.

“Don’t act shy now,” King said, as he grabbed Grell and sunk his claws into flesh, “You chased after that fool Sebastian like some sort of bitch in heat. You should be thankful that I’d even consider debasing myself like this. After all, I’m determined I’m going to get something out of capturing you even if you managed to keep your death scythe out of my hands.”

“My death scythe?” Grell asked, but it was clear that King was passed the point of talking. He threw Grell across the room so that he landed across the arm of the throne. The force knocked the wind out of Grell, and he struggled to catch his breath, but there was no time. King had followed closely, and was now ripping the pants and underwear off Grell’s body.

“Stop it!” Grell screamed, and he kicked with all his might. His remaining boot caught King directly in the gut, and the demon stumbled backwards.

“You’ll pay for that,” King said, and he whistled loudly. Three other demons ran into the room; only one had taken on a humanoid like form. The other two seemed like little more than shadowy forms with terrible eyes. “Hold him,” King said, “And I’ll let you have a turn.

The demons laughed and ran over to grab hold of Grell, but the reaper wasn’t done fighting. His hands were still bound, but he kicked and bit at the demons like some sort of animal, but it was clear he was overpowered. His head was shoved down painfully into the seat of the throne as his pants were torn completely away. There was no romance or gentle touches. This was brutal and cold. Grell’s legs were pulled apart before King laughed. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, as he reached down and began to stroke himself. As Grell had expected, King’s clothes were a bit of an illusion, as his erection soon began to rise with the necessity of removing pants. He was far bigger than any human with quill like spikes from tip to base. Without any preparation, he pushed into Grell with all his force - filling the reaper with a single movement.

Grell screamed in pain as the blood ran down his pale legs. “Stop it!” he screamed, “Stop!”

“Never, my little pet,” King said, it feels too good. You should just try to enjoy yourself.” He laughed darkly as he started a rough and brutal pace. The others demons watched on with anticipation and lust, but King was just getting started.

Grell’s nose began to bleed from being shoved so roughly into the chair as tears filled his eyes, but he hadn’t allowed himself to cry despite all the pain. “I will kill you,” he said in an almost quiet, calm tone, “I’m not sure when, but I will kill you, and you’ll regret doing this.”

“You should learn when to be quiet,” King replied, as he shoved into Grell even more roughly than before. Despite his high levels of pain tolerance, Grell began to lose consciousness as he heard the other demons argue who would have a chance to rape him next.

 

Grell awoke an unknown time later; still half lying on the metallic throne. He moaned, as he struggled to stand, but fell back almost immediately from the intense pain. His arms had been unbound at some point while he was unconscious, and he brought his arms around  to relax the muscles. Thick shackles had been attached to his wrists. They didn't cut in as much as his earlier bindings, but the cold metal still pulled and pinched at his skin. Examining his neck, there was thick collar - and a tiny tag. "They're treating me like a blasted pet," he said, and he stood again. Despite the pain, he got to his feet and slowly walked across the room to the windows. A chain attached to the collar only allowed to walk so far, but he could still look downstairs. Ronald was still hanging there, although it was clear if he was conscious or not, but at least he was no longer being abused. "We're going to get out of here," he whispered.

The door to the room suddenly opened; slamming against the wall. Grell spun around and watched as three demons slipped into the room. There were two smaller demons - tiny, twin, grey figures with barely visible red orbs and jagged caverns for mouths. Following them was a female demon. She was undoubtedly a succubus with her exaggerated proportions and extreme sexuality in her movements. Massive breasts hovered above a nearly impossible waist before blossoming into broad, rounded hips. She didn't wear a scrap of clothing with only her long, honey colored hair covering any of her body.

"Ooh," she cooed, "It looks like King has a pretty new pet."

"I am no one's pet," Grell said.

"Do you really think so?" asked the succubus, "I think you're wrong there. You are his pet...and ours." She slunk forward. "In fact, I might have to ask him nicely to play. At least, I might ask later."

Grell jumped forward - prepared to fight, but the succubus only smiled as she tapped a glowing button on the wall. Before Grell could protest, he felt himself being flung backwards. It was as if the floor had turned into a giant, powerful magnet. His shackles and collar pinned him to the floor as the demons only laughed.

"What's the matter, pet?" the succubus began, "Paralyzed with your lust for me?"

The two smaller demons moved closer to hold down his legs. Grell still kicked and struggled, but he looked away as the succubus moved closer.

A scythe suddenly sliced forward, and one of the demons holding him down cried out in pain. Looking up, Grell saw King standing there with a stolen scythe in his hand. "I believe you three are trespassing," he said coldly.

"We just wanted to play," the succubus pouted, as she walked towards him, "It's been a long time since I've had my fun. Just look at this one."

"You're treading on this ice, Lilith," King said, "This is my little reaper. I might let you have a turn, but not without permission. Do you understand."

"You're so cruel," Lilith said, but she left the room. The one demon followed easily, but the other was left to limp and crawl.

King watched them leave, and he pushed the button which released Grell once they were gone. "Don't think I'm saving you," he said, "I'll let them use you, but they have to remember who is in charge here. I am their king as much as I am yours. Remember, my little pet, you belong to me and you always will. Perhaps it's time to start thinking of a way to escape all this."

Leaving Grell to ponder these words, he shut the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Almost everyone had gone home, and Dispatch was silent as a tomb. Perhaps that was even fitting considering the work that was done here, although this wasn't something that anyone dared to say aloud. Finishing his paperwork, William silently left his office and started down the hall, but he paused once again as he stared into Grell's office. The chainsaw set there. It was only a device for collecting souls, but William couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Mr. Spears, sir?"

William jumped slightly as he turned around to face a young, blonde reaper. "Yes?" he asked.

"I don't know if you know my name."

"It's Peterson, is it not? You are in my class in the academy."

"Yes," Peterson said, "I had a question for you."

"It's late," William said, "My office hours are over."

"Uh, I'm sorry," Peterson apologized, "I'll...see you tomorrow." He started to walk away.

"Wait," William said, "You were going to ask about this attack, were you not?"

"Yes, sir," Peterson admitted, "It's just...so much to take in. I mean, it seems like this is more dangerous that it should be."

William nodded. "It is a cold, cruel job," he said, "and there are dangers. This is a punishment, and it's to show us that nothing was easy. Life isn't easy, but we tried to escape it. That's why we're here. While an attack like this has never happened before, to my knowledge, demons are always a danger."

"Doesn't seem fair," Peterson said.

"Nothing is fair," William said, before allow his gaze to move back to Grell's scythe. "Nothing is."

"What about the reapers who were kidnapped, Mr. Spears?" asked Peterson, "Are we going to try to save them."

There was several minutes of silence filled only by the ticking of the clock. "We are forbidden from going into the living realm," he finally said, "and even when we are, I doubt we will be permitted to launch a rescue. Souls are more important than our existence. Besides, the attack was carried out by demons. They are not know for mercy or compassion."

"So we're to think of the ones missing as dead?"

William took a deep breath. "I would say that's precisely what Upper Management will say in the morning," he replied. He looked at Peterson. "You should be heading back to the dorms. You need your rest. Things are only going to get rougher at the academy."

"Yes, sir," Peterson said before turning to walk away - leaving William completely alone.

"Yes," William whispered to himself, "Nothing is fair."


	2. Day 2

    William arrived early to the office as usual when Dispatch was all but deserted. Within the next hour, this place would be abuzz with activity and conversation, but it was quietly and almost peaceful at this time of morning. William didn’t take the time to pause and stare at Grell’s chainsaw as he walked past the small office, but there was a tiny, almost imperceptible falter in his usual steady stride as he stepped past the door. Without a word, he opened the door to his own office and stepped inside.

    He wasn’t alone.

    A man was standing at the far side of the room staring at the window. He turned when William entered; the light falling upon the lens of his glasses so his eyes were obscured. With his short, perfectly groomed dark hair and black suit, he was a rather nondescript individual - the kind of man that could enter and leave any room without anyone particularly noticing or even remembering him. It was clear he had been sent from Upper Management, so William nodded to him before shutting the door.

    “Good morning,” William greeted tonelessly.

    “I’ve come to tell what changes must be implemented in light of recent events,” the man said; ignoring William’s greeting entirely. He didn’t even bother giving his name.

    “Of course,” William said. He gestured towards a seat as he walked towards his own desk.

    “I won’t take much of your time,” said the man, “Reapers will be allowed once again to go to the living realm, but only on official business.” He picked up a clipboard that had been lying on William’s desk. “They are to sign this whenever they leave and sign in again immediately upon their return. Anyone who leaves our realm without signing or for any reason other than an assignment will face suspension. Is this clear?”

    “Yes, sir,” William answered.

    “There’s already been a change in all assignments,” he continued, “Until we are certain that the threat has passed, reapers will work in pairs while in the field. This will double their workload, so everyone will have overtime. Of course, this is unavoidable.” He paused he watched William, but neither of them had any change of expression. “Finally, there needs to be an increased focus on training reapers to protect their scythes. There was quite a few scythes lost during the incident. This message will be passed on to everyone who teaches the academy as well, but it needs to be stressed to all those currently in the field as well. Understood?”

    William nodded quietly.

    “Good,” stated the man, “Now, if you have no questions, I will be on my way.”

    “I do have a question,” William said, “What about the reapers who were attacked?”

    The man frowned solidly. “What do you mean?”

    “Four reapers from the office were in this attack, and we haven’t seen or heard anything about them. All we know is that they were supposedly taken by demons. At least, that was the rumor that was floating around office yesterday.”

    “I advise you not to listen to rumors, Spears. It’s a dangerous habit.” Still frowning, the man approached so that he was standing directly in front of William. “I know you are quite nervous to lose any subordinates. After all, two were lost not all that long ago on your watch, but do not be concerned, Spears. Unlike those other incidents, you are not to blame for what happened here. In fact, Sutcliff was one of the few who protected his scythe. For that, you could be commended.”

    The man turned and started towards the door. “Do as you have been told, Spears,” he said, “but it’s best to think of the reapers who are currently unaccounted for as dead, we don’t have the time for any sort of retrieval mission.” With those words, he left the room; closing the door a bit harder than necessary.

 

 

* * *

 

 

    Grell had fallen into a light sleep on the hard, rusted floor when the door slid open loudly. There was the loud hiss of steam and a blinking of lights, which awoke him suddenly, but he quickly recovered.

    “Good morning, Pet,” King greeted as he walked into the room. There was another demon behind him, which Grell hadn’t seen before. Like King, he had taken on a mostly human appearance, but he wasn’t handsome or charming. At first glance, he looked like an older slightly overweight man with harmless blue eyes and a receding, grey hairline. However,there was nothing friendly in his smile. “We’ve come with your breakfast.”

    “I’ve told you before, I’m no one’s pet,” Grell growled, “Nor am I hungry.”

    “Oh, I think you’re hungry,” King said, “Especially for what we have to offer.”

    Grell opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw that the other demon’s pants were already undone and he was toying with his penis. Although not as large or frightening as King, Grell still closed his mouth. The insinuation of what they were offering to eat was all to clear.

    King moved with frightening speed and twisted his black claws painfully in Grell’s hair, which caused the reaper to open his mouth to let out a gasped cry. The other demon wasted no time in moving forward to shove his dick roughly into Grell’s mouth.

    The demon sighed with pleasure as he started to rock back and forth - until he suddenly screamed. “Let go!” he screamed.

    Grell only smiled as his teeth was still implanted deep into the demon’s most sensitive area.

    King actually chuckled as he reached he used his hands to separate Grell’s jaws so that other demon could pull free. Bleeding openly, the demon ran from the room; leaving King along with Grell.

    “You shouldn’t have done that,” King said.

    “You said it was my breakfast,” Grell replied with faux innocent, “I was just taking a bite.”

    Shaking his head, King released Grell and walked towards the door. “I do like your spirit,” he said, “It will be so much fun to break, but you will not do that again.”

    “That’s where you wrong,” Grell said, “I promise you I will bite anything you try and stick in my mouth, and I won’t let go next time. I will bite it off and spit it out.”

    “That’s not a good attitude, Pet,” King said, “Besides, the better you behave the more...advantages you can expect. Think about that.” Without another word, he left the room and the door shut behind him with another angry hiss of steam.

    “I’m not your pet!” Grell yelled; his voice echoing off the walls.

 

 

* * *

 

 

    William stood patiently in the main floor of Dispatch as he watched all his subordinates file inside. Their conversations were quieter than the day before, almost subdued, and most glanced at him nervously as they walked past. It was quite possible they were expecting or hoping for answers.

    Unfortunately William had very few answers to offer.

    “Attention everyone,” William said once everyone was present, “I have spoken to a member of Upper Management this morning, and there going to be a few changes in light of what has happened.” A soft murmur rippled through the crowd, and William didn’t bother to ask them to settle down. “Travel to the living world is once again permitted, but only for official business,” he said after a few minutes, “Plus, everyone must sign this sheet before leaving to go the human realm and upon returning.” He held up the clipboard. “This will be setting on Miss Fletcher’s desk,” he added, “Anyone who is leaves this realm for anything other than official business or without signing can face suspension. Understood?”

    There was mumbled agreement along with disappointed faces. While their society was a self sustaining one, many reapers enjoyed going to the living world to enjoy its various restaurants and entertainment. A few would undoubtedly even try to break this rules.

    “Furthermore,” William added, “You will be receiving new assignments shortly. All reapers will be working in pairs. Because of this, workloads will be doubled and there will be unavoidable overtime.”

    This caused a cry of outrage, and one reaper yelled out, “That’s not fair.”

    “No,” William agreed, “It’s not fair, but that’s simply the way things are.” He adjusted his glasses. “I will be in my office,” he said, “No one is to disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

    He nodded briefly before retreating to his office. Upon closing the door, the sounds of protests and complaints were lessened greatly, but the couldn’t be downed out completely. With a loud sigh, he walked over to his own desk and tried to drown himself in paperwork. He was unsuccessfully trying to read the same document for the third time when there was a knock upon his door.

    “I am not to be disturbed,” he said loudly.

    “Mr. Spears?” asked Miss Fletcher, “May I come in? I really need to see you.”

    He calmed slightly as the sound of his secretary’s voice. “Yes,” he said, “Come in, Miss Fletcher.”

    She opened the door only wide enough to slip inside before closing it behind her. As always, she was the picture of professionalism in both dress and appearance, but there was a strange light in her eyes as she approached William’s desk holding a file in her arms. “I know you are my boss, sir,” she began, “but I’d like permission to ask you a frank question.”

    William sat back slightly in his chair as he studied her. “You may.”

    “How much is Upper Management not telling us about the situation?” she asked.

    His shoulders slumped slightly like the air deflating from a balloon. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, “but I fear that they know a lot more than they are telling us. The man I spoke to this morning said that we are to think about those that were attacked as dead, but I don’t think that Upper Management believes that.”

    “Why is that, sir?”

    “If a reaper is lost in the living world, then their body is to be collected and brought back to our realm to prevent a doctor or anyone from examining them,” William answered.

    “And there’s been no such mission?” asked Miss Fletcher.

    “No,” William said, “Collections would have been the ones sent on such a mission, and there has not been any scheduled.” He sighed loudly. “However, there’s little we can do about it. I don’t know what happened or even how to go about looking for such information. Undoubtedly the records of the reapers involved have been sealed by now, so there’s no way to determine where the attacks even occurred.”

    With a strange smile, Miss Fletcher laid the file she had been holding on William’s desk. “I had to retrieve copies of where each of the reapers attacked were on assignment yesterday,” she said, “and I took the liberty of copying the information before returning the original files.”

    William leaned forward to look at the files. “I’m...I’m not sure what to say,” he managed, “Are you suggesting that I should break the rules and conduct some sort of investigation?”

    “I’m not suggesting anything, Mr. Spears,” she said, “but I thought you would to have those.” With the same peculiar smile, she turned to leave the room but paused just before opening the door. She looked over her shoulder to make contact with William once more. “You’re a good man, Mr. Spears,” she said, “but I’m not sure you know that. Please remember that, sir. No matter what anyone might say, you’re a good man.”

    William could only ponder those words as Miss Fletcher left the room.

 

 

* * *

  


    The room below stank of blood, piss, and vomit as Grell walked among the beaten and tortured reapers. Ronald was near the far wall; his arms still held high above his head by chains, but he had been lowered so that he was able to rest his lower half on the floor. His glasses were missing, and the left half of his face had been torn and ravaged. A jagged scar ran from his forehead to his chin; as if someone had been trying to cut his face in half. His clothes were only thin strips of tatters that were soiled and stained by Ronald’s own blood. Kneeling beside him, Grell laid his hand gently on Ronald’s shoulder.

    The reaction was immediate. Ronald flinched and tried to jerk away. His eyes flew open, and it was clear that he was now blind in his left eye.

    “It’s me, Ronnie,” Grell said quietly.

    Ronald blinked several times as he leaned closer. “Sen...Senior Sutcliff?” he asked.

    “Yes,” Grell said. He brought up small bowl filled with water. It was obviously a dog bowl - a gift from King, but at least it was fresh water. “Here. Drink this.”

    Ronald clumsily leaned towards the bowl as Grell tilted it to his lips. He drank for several  minutes before moving his head away. “Thanks,” he gasped. He took several deep breaths. “So, they got you too,” he said.

    “Yeah,” Grell said, “Hard to imagine, but those dastardly fiends actually managed to subdue me. Not that I didn’t put up a good fight.”

    “I didn’t get a chance to fight much,” Ronald admitted, “They jumped me just as I finished a collection. Didn’t even sense they were there until it was too late.” He groaned. “What do you think they want with all of us?”

    Grell shrugged. “I think they were trying to get their hands on our scythes,” he answered, as he tugged on his torn shirt; his only clothing left. ““Ki...One of the demons said something about my baby, and I’ve seen other demons using stolen ones. I think they have them stored around here.”

    “They took mine,” Ronald said, “I didn’t have time to even stop them.” He took another long breath. “But I mean, what do they want with us now?” he asked, “I mean, they took the scythes they could. Are they waiting for someone to rescue us so they can attack them?”

    “I doubt that,” Grell said, “They should know that no one is coming to save us.” He looked around the room as he spoke at all the lost reapers. It was true. They were on their own here.

    “Then what? Why keep us here?”

    “I think they just like torturing us,” Grell answered.

    There was a snort from Ronald. “Not very creative,” he mumbled.

    Grell was caught off guard by this and laughed slightly. “True,” he said, “but no one ever accused demons of being particularly creative. I think they’re just hurting us for the fun of it.”

    “Do you really think that’s the only reason?” King asked suddenly.

    Grell jumped to his feet and turned only to see King standing behind Ronald. The demon was smiling broadly as he stepped around Ronald and approached Grell. “Do you really think we have so little imagination?” he asked.

    Before Grell could respond, a whip slashed through the air and cracked painfully loud as it made contact with Ronald’s already beaten flesh. Another demon had been the one to employ the whip, but he was looking at Grell with the same expression as King. Ronald whimpered despite himself as a stripe of blood appeared on his skin.

    “Stop that!” Grell screamed, and he tried to run at the demon who had the whip.

    King jumped forward and grabbed the redhead. “Now, now, my pet,” he chided, “Don’t make your punishment any worse.”

    “My punishment?” Grell asked, as the whip cracked through the air again.

    “Yes, pet,” King said, “For your little act of disobedience this morning. Thad was...quite sore about it.” He chuckled lightly. He suggested that we find a new way to punish you. That’s why he thought you should be given a little freedom to see if there was anything here you valued.” Another crack of the whip and a cry from Ronald sounded in the background.

    “Stop it!” Grell screamed; trying to jerk free from King. “Stop it, or I will kill all of you!”

    “You’re not in any position to do that,” King said, “but there is a way to make it stop.”

    Grell frowned. “And what is that?”

    King turned the reaper around so that he could see the demon from this morning - Thad as he was apparently called. He had healed quickly, and it was clear what he wanted from Grell as he rubbed his own engorged dick. His smile was savage.

    “I won’t do it,” Grell said, “I told you before that I’ll bite off anything you try to stick in my mouth.”

    “That’s too bad,” he said, “I was hoping you would behave like a good pet, but I see you want to be stubborn. I guess your little friend will just have to pay.” He made a motion with his hand and Grell winced as he heard the whip slash through the air again. Ronald cried out helplessly in pain.

    “Just stop hurting him,” Grell said, “And...I’ll do it.”

    “That’s a good pet,” King said, “Now, get on your knees. You need to crawl to Thad.”

    Pure hatred shone in Grell’s eyes as he got down upon his knees and crawled towards the other demon. This was the purest form of humiliation, but Grell saw little choice in the matter. When he was close enough, Thad’s hands shot forward to shove Grell’s head closer. Cursing under his breath, Grell opened his mouth as the demon shoved inside.

    He seemed bigger than before, and tears came to Grell’s eyes as he fought against gagging. Thad was laughing as he tangled his hands in Grell’s hair to bring him even closer.

    Suddenly, Grell realized there was someone standing directly behind him. Before he could do anything, he felt King shoving into him roughly from behind. He groaned around Thad’s erection as the demon pounded into him. They had no mercy.

    Although Ronald couldn’t see clearly without his glasses, Grell saw him close his eyes and avert his head as the horrible scene played out before him.


	3. Day 3

**Day 3**

 

The silvery fog covered the streets like a gossamer, funeral shroud; enveloping the area and giving it an almost ethereal, otherworldly appearance. Sounds were either magnified or dampened seemingly without rhyme or reason, which made it impossible to judge the distance or direction of another footsteps. By the time you heard someone, they could be right behind you or they could simply be walking away.

William walked steadily through the streets with a calm, resolute face and strong stride. His tall form appeared to be a solid shadow gliding almost noiselessly through the alley, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead as he walked towards his destination. He passed very few individuals on this journey. Those who did notice him would glance in his direction, but their eyes would slide almost unseeingly across his form. No one wanted to see or no too much on a night like this.

They wanted their secrets to remain wrapped in the damp folds of the fog.

Finally, William stepped into a narrow alley, and it was clear that a battle had taken place in the narrow confines. Gashes created by a device a bit foreign and advanced for this world cut through the stone and brick. Thick, dark blood stained the ground, and the William wrinkled his nose at the putrid smell. This wasn't the blood of a reaper nor a human. This was a demonic blood, and quite a bit had been spilled before the fight had ended. His brow wrinkling slightly, he leaned down to pick up something which had caught his eye; a single long strand of hair as bright and beautiful as a newly picked red rose or freshly spilled blood. It was clear that this was the spot where Grell had been attacked.

William stood and looked over the files he held tightly clutched in his left hand. A man had died in this alley from alcohol poisoning, and it was his soul that Grell had been sent to collect. There was no sign of the body, so it had obviously been removed long since.

If it had ever been there at all.

A dark frown overtook William's features as he gritted his teeth. Other than the fact that all the attacks had occurred at the same time, there was nothing that tied the cases together. Grell had been in this alley to collect the soul of a man who had died from drinking too much. Ronald had been sent to the docks to collect the soul of a man who had been murdered. The other two deaths were both natural causes, but one was elderly while the other was infant. Nothing about this added up in the least.

He stood there several more minutes simply staring down at this scene as if hoping something would stand out, but there was simply nothing else to be discovered. Letting out a long, slow breath from between his teeth, he glanced about briefly before creating a portal to return to his realm. within the briefest of moments, he went from the damp alley, to his own quiet apartment. Nothing here was out of place, nor was there any sign that he had been detected. If anyone had noticed he was missing, they would have undoubtedly been waiting for him here, but there was no one. All around was quiet and order.

He ran one hand through his short, dark hair as he glanced over at the clock. The numbers on the clock stood testimony that he had been gone much longer than anticipated. There was no time for a nap or even rest. "Honestly," he mumbled to himself, "I should have watched my time better." After quickly shaking his head, he hurried to his bathroom and disrobed.

He turned the water to much colder than usual, and he winced when he stepped in to feel the icy water stabbing into his tired muscles. The shower was brief yet sufficient, as was a quick shave before he redressed in a suit that had been identical to the one he had worn the day before. A routine check in the mirror showed that everything was in order, except for his eyes. He had stared into the same eyes for over a century, but today they looked dull and tired. Of course, it wasn't often that anyone took the time to really look him in the eyes, so he simply turned away as he walked to the door.

Dispatch was silent as it always was this time of day, but William stepped out of his routine to go to the break room to put on a fresh pot of coffee. After a few moment, the smell of it perking began to waft through the office, and William breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll get a cup when it's ready," he said aloud to himself; his voice echoing in the small room. With that done, he walked to his own office to unlock the door.

A note had been taped to his door, and he frowned slightly as he pulled it down to read its contents. It was brief and to the point.

 

_Spears_

_Come to Spectacles. I have those new frames you need._

 

_\- Anderson_

 

William's frown only deepened as he read the note several times, but he soon stuffed it in his pocket when he laughter and conversation dancing down the hallway. The other workers had begun to arrive, so William slipped into his office and shut the door. It was just like every other morning for them.

But not for him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 The rusted metal that comprised the floor was jagged in ripped in places, so Grell had to carefully place his foot with each step as he walked around exploring his prison. Rust floated on the air like bloody snowflakes; sticking to his skin and lodging in his nose, but Grell showed no outward discomfort as he walked. The demons watched him. They watched him everywhere he went - often leering or making obscene gestures, but none had attempted to approach him. It was possible that they had orders from King not to touch him, but Grell had no way of knowing nor had he questioned. He simply kept his face blank as he walked around.

 

Down a long, dusty hallway that was filled with blinking, stuttering lights, Grell came to a pair of double doors that hung crookedly on their hinges like teeth about to fall out of an ancient mouth. They creaked loudly as he pushed one open and stepped inside the unfamiliar room. Hot air assaulted Grell as he carefully stepped forward. The floor here was thinner and moved underfoot as he walked. His eyes slowly adjusted, and soon the massive, jagged hole that took up the center of the room became visible. From out that gaping maw, smoke tinged red belched out regularly and filled the room with a sulfurous smell. Grell coughed and covered his mouth before turning to leave the room as there was no other exit visible.

"Who's there?" a voice suddenly demanded, "What are you planning to do to me now?"

Grell looked up and didn't quite suppress the gasp that fell from his lips. A man had been hung from the ceiling of the room; his body dangling above the fiery pit. His skin had been burned and blackened from the heat, and most of his hair was gone, yet there was something familiar in his voice and even in the small part of his face that hadn't been melted away. Grell stepped forward, careful not to get to close to the pit, as his eyes never left the hanging man.

"Eric?" he asked.

The man raised his head and turned it in Grell's direction, although it was difficult to tell if he could actually see. "Yes," he answered, "Your voice...it sounds familiar."

"It's me, Grell."

"Grell," Eric repeated, "Yes, I remember your voice." He laughed before wincing; the hooks that pierced his flesh tearing more into his skin and muscle.

"What are you doing here?" asked Grell.

There was a long sigh. "This is my punishment," Eric said, "for killing those people."

"The pure souls to save Alan?"

Eric nodded. "I have to hang here for 999 years - one for each of the innocent lives I took," he said, "Forever burning only to heal and burn again." He squinted in Grell's direction. "Is that why you're here? To be punished?"

"No," Grell said, perhaps a shade too quickly, "I was...captured I guess. Demons grabbed me and brought me here. A bunch of reapers. They caught Ronnie, and a few others from the office. There's a bunch here I think were from different agencies."

"Captured?" Eric asked, "That doesn't sound like you."

"I know it's hard to believe, darling," Grell said, "And you better believe that I put up a fight. It took a bunch of them and they had to catch me off guard." As he spoke, Grell sat down on the thin floor and brought his knees up to his chest. "I don't suppose that matters that much now," he added in a quieter tone.

"That's not true," Eric said, "You wouldn't simply be you if you hadn't put up a fight."

"I suppose," Grell replied.

"But I have to ask you one thing," Eric said, "Have you seen Alan?" His voice dripped with desperation and he moved in his chains and hooks despite the fact it was undoubtedly painful. "I haven't see him here, but I didn't think he would be. I thought maybe he'd been reborn as a reaper."

"I haven't seen him," Grell admitted, "but sometimes people aren't reborn right away - or so I heard."

"I've heard the same way," Eric said, "I was just hoping that maybe you've seen him."

"He could have been reborn as a human."

Eric's burnt, cracked lips curled upward in the tiniest of smiles. "I'd like that," he said, "He'd have a chance at a real life. Maybe it would all turn out good for him this time." He closed his eyes as if imagining Alan's imaginary human life, and Grell sat watching him. For a few minutes, it was actually peaceful in the horrible, hot room of torture. "I have hope," Eric finally said, "and that keeps me going. I'll be able to face this punishment because I have hope that Alan's out there somewhere, and he's okay. Hope is important."

"So is love," Grell said.

"Is that what's keeping you sane even here?"

Grell laughed. "I've never been accused of being sane," he said, "but love is what's keeping me strong."

"William," Eric said.

"William," Grell repeated, "I have to survive this so I can see him again." He wrapped his arms around his body. "No matter what these damned demons do to me, they cannot destroy my love for William. I just have to find a way to escape so I can get back to him, and I even have an idea."

"Oh?"

"The demons have our scythes," Grell said, "Not one of course. I was able to protect my baby, but they stole a lot of scythes. It's easy to see where they keep them since there's only one room in this place with a constant guard. A few other demons carry a scythe with them. I just have to manage to get into that room, and I can create a portal out of here." His typical sharp smile was firmly on his face as he looked up at Eric. "Want to come with me?"

"I appreciate the offer but..."

"Why does it sound like you're about to say no?"

"I need to stay here," Eric said, "I have to remain for my punishment so I have another chance. I'll probably be forced to be a reaper again, but that means I might be able to see Alan if he's out there. I might even more on if I ever find redemption. No, the only way I have any hope of seeing Alan again is if I remain here."

"And hope is important," Grell said; reiterating what Eric had said earlier.

"Exactly," Eric replied.

"So here you are, little reaper," Lilith suddenly said from the shadows, "I've been looking for you."

Grell jumped to his feet and spun around to face the succubus. He gritted his teeth, but his face paled as he stood there. "What do you want?" he asked.

Lilith only smiled as she slinked forward. It was impossible to know how much she had heard. "King wants to see you," she said, "You're to go back to your room for now. After all, tonight is very special."

"Hate to see what that means," Grell mumbled, but he walked over to Lilith and left the room. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to Eric.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even down in Spectacles, most of the workers had already gone to lunch as William walked into the large room. Row after row of glasses glittered in the bright, overhead lights; watching him like tiny, shimmering eyes, but William didn't pause to look around the room as he made his way to Anderson's table. The older reaper didn't look up as William approached as he was seemingly engrossed in his work on a pare of pale green frames. "I'm here for my new frames, sir," William said.

Anderson didn't acknowledge him for a few minutes until he finished the frames and set those safely aside. "Good," he said, "Step into my office. I have them on my desk."

Anderson turned and walked into a small, cute of an office tucked into the back of spectacles like an afterthought. William had never been in this office before, but he followed Anderson without question as they walked into the office. Once the door was shut and locked, Anderson walked over and sat down on a pale, wooden desk. "I suppose you are confused," he said.

"Yes, sir," William said, "I hadn't inquired about new frames nor am I due any."

"Did you tell anyone you were coming here?" asked Anderson.

"No, sir."

"Good," Anderson, "I needed to talk to you, Spears, but I didn't think it was good idea for anyone to know."

William adjusted his glasses. "Forgive my forwardness," he said, "but what's this about?"

There was a gruff smile from Anderson in response. "You were always straightforward," he said, "I like that. I called you down here because I know that none of the higher ups are being straight with you, and I don't think that's fair. You're expected to handle a situation you don't even fully understand."

"Do you know what's going on?" William asked.

Anderson picked up a glass paperweight from his desk and shifted it from hand to hand as his fingers slipped over the smooth glass. "I've been here a long time, Spears," he said, "Longer than anyone knows. I know things. I picked them up over the years." He continued to toy with the paperweight in a rather distracted manner. "Do you remember what you were taught about demons in the academy?" he finally asked, "About how they are created?"

"Most demons are the original fallen ones," William replied automatically, "They can create more like themselves in a perverted from of procreation. Despite rumors, humans cannot become demons except through very rare circumstances." He spoke in a tone that indicated he was paraphrasing what had been read in a textbook.

"That's what they teach," Anderson said, "and it's true...mostly. There is one other type of demons." He set the paperweight aside and leaned towards William. "Reapers can be turned into demons as well."

William's mouth dropped open as his eyes widened. "That's...that's not possible," he said, as his features slowly recovered, "I've never heard of such a thing."

"The higher ups keep that information secret," Anderson explained, "They are afraid that reapers might hesitate fighting a demon if they think it could be a former comrade."

"But how can a reaper even become a demon?"

Anderson's eyes shifted to the floor as he took a deep breath. "It's not pleasant, William," he said, "For a reaper to be turned, they have to be through horrible torture and pain. They have to be broken...and filled."

"Filled?" William asked.

"Demonic fluid must be injected into their body," Anderson clarified, "Sexual contact is the most common method, although they sometime are forced to drink fluids or even have them directly injected."

William took a step back until he was leaning against the door. "This has happened before?" he asked.

"Yes," Anderson answered, "but nothing to this extreme. It was always just a reaper kidnapped here or there. There's even been a few that were tricked into following a demon willingly." He slid off the desk and walked over to William. "If any of the kidnapped reapers do return," Anderson said, "there's a chance they are already becoming a demon. They might not even know it. Spears - William, it's almost better if they don't return." He reached his hand forward to lay it on William's shoulder.

William shook off the hand. "So we should just think of them as dead?" he asked.

"They most likely are," Anderson said.

"I can't do that," William said, "I just can't. I have to hope that Grell...that all of them survive." He quickly smoothed his hair. "I have to get back to work. My lunch is nearly over."

Throwing the door opened, he walked briskly away from Spectacles and back to his office. By the time he made it to his door, he was almost running.

 

* * *

 

 

Grell sat on the floor of what was now called his room; knees brought up to chest as he chewed on his lower lip until it bled slightly. Lilith had brought him back here, but had disappeared once more after telling him to stay. "They still treat me like a damned pet," he mumbled to himself as he rocked slightly, "They're going to pay for that."

Just as he spoke, there was the familiar hiss of steam and blinking of lights as the door slid open. As the steam cleared, Lilith stood framed in the doorway with her hands upon her hips and a darkly, sinister smile on her face. "Time to get you ready," she said in a sing song voice as she slid into the room. Behind her, the tiny demons that always followed her, came into the room carrying a large tub full of water. It would have made more sense for them to have carried the tub empty and then fill it with water, it appeared that no one had told them such a thing. Water sloshed out and splattered on the dry floor as they walked until they finally set the tub down heavily.

"Time for your bath," Lilith announced, "You can't be dirty when you appear before King. He wants you clean and sweet smelling."

Grell looked at the tub and watched as tendrils of steam rose from the water. It was clearly quite hot. "Are you sure he is the one who wants me to have a bath and not you?" he asked.

Lilith laughed loudly. It sounded like the ringing of a mangled bell, and Grell winced at the sound. "These are King's orders," she said, "In fact, I'm not permitted to touch you beyond helping you bathe unless you ask me to. King has me bound. It's like he doesn't trust me." She pushed out her lower lip in a mock pout.

"Gee, I wonder why," Grell said.

"Now don't be mean," Lilith said, "Now, off with that dirty rag you're still wearing and into the tub."

Grell looked at the water and back to Lilith. "If I refuse?" he asked.

She laughed again. "You don't really have a choice," she said, "You know that. Now jump in. The water's nice and warm. I also have some lovely shampoo. Smells like strawberries."

Keeping his eyes locked on Lilith, Grell stood in a slow, steady motion. Without a sign of shame, he stripped completely before stepping into the tub. The hot water rushed around him as he sat down, but his face remain calm.

"That's a good boy," Lilith said, "Now, lean forward so I can pour some water over your hair. I know it must be driving you crazy for your hair to be so dirty."

Grell did as requested, and Lilith poured the water. Once his hair was good and wet, Lilith poured some shampoo on to his hair and began to work it into a lather. It was a very pleasant smell, and she used her long fingers to massage it into his scalp. Despite everything, Grell closed his eyes and his body relaxed slightly. Lilith worked diligently on his hair until it was good and clean. Afterwards, she soaped up a rag and started to wash his shoulders.

Grell's eyes flew open. "I can bathe myself," he said, as he reached for the rag.

"I was hoping you'd let me do it," Lilith said, "I was planning to clean you all over." She licked her lips slightly as she leaned close until their faces were nearly touching.

"I thought you were bound by King," Grell said, "and you couldn't touch me."

She played with the washrag as her eyes soaked up his body. "I can't," she said, "Unless I have your permission. All you have to do is to say I can touch you, and I'll be free to do whatever I want."

"You're crazy!" Grell exclaimed, as he sat up straighter, "Why would I say that?"

Her smile increased until she looked almost serpentine as her eyes took on a yellowish glow. "I heard what you said to your little friend," she whispered, "I bet King would love to hear all about it, and I really should tell him unless..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes traveled down his body.

"Unless I let you do what you want," Grell finished.

"That's the deal," she said.

"Why would I believe that you would keep your word and not tell him?" Grell asked.

"I could give you my word."

"For all that's worth!" Grell spat.

"Now you've hurt my feelings," she said, "I guess I need to tell him right now. He'll be so disappointed...and interested." She started to stand.

"Wait," Grell said.

"Yes?" she asked.

Grell let out a long breath. "All I have to say is that you can touch me?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She dropped back to her knees. "That's all," she said, "and I promise I won't say a word. You just give me permission, we have a little fun, and your conversation will be forgotten. Just tell me I can touch you."

"You...you can touch me," Grell said, as he closed his eyes, "Even if I don't say anything, I'm sure you'll figure out a way anyway."

"Oooh!" she cried, and she wasted no time. Soaping up the rag once again, she began to wash his body. Grell's muscles tensed as her hands moved down. Her tongue was flickering in and out of mouth like a snake when she finally reached her goal and began to stroke him.

His body responded. Although his face was still held in a tight grimace, his cock began to harden and rise. Lilith's eyes lit up, as her hand increased speed. "So nice," she mumbled before climbing into the tub with Grell.

"What are you doing?" Grell asked, as he opened his eyes, "I only said you can touch me."

"Weren't you paying attention?" she asked, "I told you that if you gave me permission, I could do whatever I want." With a smile of victory, she threw back her head as she shoved herself down. "Oh, this is so much better than those nasty demon dicks. Those are usually designed to hurt rather than give pleasure, as I'm sure you know by now!" She punctuated her statement with a laugh as she began to ride him. "Now, just sit back and relax. I'll take it from here." Her loud moans filled the room and echoed off the walls as the water splashed onto the floor.

Grell closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he fought against his body's natural's reaction, but he still moved his hips as sweat stood out on his skin. It wasn't painful as it usually were with demons, but there is pain beyond that which is purely physical. This was a violation. It was added humiliation to an already humiliating experience.

The atmosphere in the room changed - becoming heavy and thick as Lilith cried out in pleasure. Grell's skin paled as his body fell back limply against the back of the tub. He wasn't moving, but not all of his body had grown limp. He was simply beyond words and movement as Lilith sucked the very life from his form.

"Lilith!" King yelled as he stomped into the room.

The succubus turned towards him and smiled. "We're almost done," she gasped, and Grell came as if on cue at that moment. Lilith cried out in ecstasy as he filled her, but she pumped her hips a few more times before climbing out of the tub.

"What's going on here?" King asked, "You were bound."

"Oh, but he gave me permission," Lilith said, "He wanted to do it."

Grell opened his mouth in apparent protest, but he was unable to make a single sound in his defense.

King's gaze shifted between Lilith and Grell. "He must have," he said, "or you wouldn't be able to touch him." He shook his head as his hand shot forward to grab Lilith's shoulder. "Get out of here," he said, "We'll talk about this later."

She didn't seem to afraid as she nodded and practically skipped from the room. The small demons that always accompanied her followed close behind and imitated her light, cheerful step.

"As for you," King said, as he pointed a clawed hand at Grell, "You will have to be punished. I'll make sure to prepare something...fitting."

The door was shut, and Grell was left lying weakly in the tub.


	4. Day 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original character Desiree belongs to Moribirds and used with permission.

**Day 14**

 

Stacks of paperwork surrounded William; threatening to topple over as the overworked supervisor carefully checked for any mistake or irregularity. The office was slowly reverting to normal. The same old conversations floated through his open door, but William’s mouth was tight as he worked. There was tension in his features and even in his unusually rigid posture. He was as strong as ever, but he seemed to be so taunt that the slightly pressure could cause him to shatter into a million pieces.

A knock interrupted his work, but he didn’t even bother raising his eyes. “I’m busy,” he said, “Unless it’s an emergency, no one is to disturb me.”

“Not even me, mon petit etoile?” inquired a familiar voice from the doorway.

William looked up and something resembling a ghost of a smile crossed his face as he found himself looking at Desiree Lefrevre. They had worked together in Paris previously. Although she hadn’t warmed up to him quickly, they had become friends...and briefly more. “Come in,” he said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She walked into the room; her long, ash-brown hair swinging in his her tight ponytail as she moved. As usual, she was dressed in a somewhat masculine suit and sensible shoes unlike many of the female employees, but it suited her quite well. “I just got the order this morning,” she said, as she sat down, “Your agency lost some reapers in the attack, and you were already shorthanded. I was sent here to help out for as long as I am needed.”

William shook his head. “It only took them two weeks to send some help,” he said, “Of course, your assistance is appreciated and needed, but Upper Management is so slow to act in cases like this.” He took a deep breath as she set aside his pen.

She looked at him for several moments. “Is something wrong?” she finally asked, “You look...stressed.”

“I am,” he said, “This is a very stressful situation, but we’re all dealing with it the best we can.”

“No, it’s more than that,” she said, “I know you, William, but I’ve never seen this look in your eyes before. Something more is wrong.” After his studying his face a few more minutes, her eyes suddenly grew wide with understanding. “It’s Sutcliff isn’t it?” she asked, “He was one of those taken.”

William nodded slowly. “We lost four of our recovery agents,” he said, “And Grell was among those.” He shifted the pen that didn’t need shifted. “I’m surprised that you figured that out so quickly. You never met Grell personally.”

“I didn’t have to meet him. I remember how much you denying you had any feelings for him, even though it was obvious you did, and how you said you didn’t understand why he was so jealous of me.” She moved forward and gently touched William’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

It was the first time anyone had said they were sorry, and William blinked several times with sudden emotion. “Thank you,” he said.

“You need to get out of here and get a drink,” Desiree offered.

“I can’t. I’m working,” William said, “Besides, there’s only one pub in our realm, and we’re forbidden from going to the living realm except on official business.”

“I don’t officially start work here until tomorrow,” she said, with a wink, “Besides, it’s time for lunch. Take me out for a drink, and help me to get caught up on the situation.”

He glanced up the clock. “I suppose,” he said, “We can make this a working lunch, but I can’t stay away from the office for too long.”

“Of course,” she said.

 

* * *

  


The only pub in their realm had the unfortunate name of the The Brim Reaper. Perhaps whoever named it thought they were being quite witty at the time, but most just groaned at the name, although it had had a surge of business since traveling to the living realm had been restricted. It was early enough in the day that it wasn’t too crowded, so William and Desiree settled into a table near the back. It was a dusty, smokey room that could use a good cleaning, but it was decent place to have a conversation.

William wiped off the slightly sticky table as Desiree took a long drink of beer before lighting a cigarette. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said.

“I don’t,” William replied, “I remembered how much you liked your vices.”

She smiled. “Well, they can’t kill me now,” she said, as she blew smoke into the air, “So, now tell me the truth. What’s really going on?”

“I don’t know,” William answered, “Upper Management has kept us all in the dark so much. We know that something happened. Reapers were taken, but I’m not sure where or why.” He sighed. “We’re supposed to think of them as dead.”

Desiree shrugged, “They’re assholes. What else is new? Although they seriously can’t expect everyone to give up if those reapers are still alive.”

“I know,” William said. He lowered his voice as he leaned closer. “I tried to do some investigation on my own. I risked being suspended, but I was desperate to learn something - anything, but I was unsuccessful. There were no clues. No similarities except that a reaper was collecting a soul when attacked. These deaths couldn’t have all been set up either.”

“So someone must have tipped off the demons,” Desiree deduced, “After all, how could they know when and where these different reapers would be otherwise if, as you said, they were set up?”

William gasped. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” he said, but then he lowered his voice. “There’s more,” he added, “I was told that there’s a way to turn a reaper into a demon. It has something to do with going through great pain and being injected with demonic fluid.” He took a deep breath as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “Even if any of those lost return, they might not be themselves. They might be a demon or just becoming a demon.”

“But that’s not possible!” Desiree gasped.

“That’s what I was told,” William said, “but I can’t find any evidence of any of this. I can’t find any time a reaper was even kidnapped.” He took a long drink before slamming his glass back down on the table. A few turned their heads briefly in his direction but soon returned to their own drinks and conversations. “I feel so helpless,” he admitted, “I don’t remember feeling this way since being reborn, but that’s how I feel now.  Helpless.”

Desiree furrowed her brow as she stared down into her mug. “I might have an idea,” she said.

 

* * *

  
  
Grell lay on the rusted floor; staring sightlessly at the ceiling. No food nor water had been brought to him since the incident with Lilith. With no clocks or sun, it was impossible to know precisely how long it had been. This was cruel torture. A reaper couldn’t die from dehydration or starvation, but they could still suffer the effects.

Since being captured, Grell had undergone quite the physical change. He had lost weight, and there were gashes and cuts crisscrossing his now too slender body. HIs naturally fair skin had grown gray and dry, and his lips were crusted with dried blood. He didn’t move as he simply lay there. Staring. The noises from down below were distant and faint.

With a hiss of angry steam, the door slid open, and Grell shifted his eyes towards the door. As a figure stepped into the dim light, Grell smiled for the first time in a long while, as he struggled to a sitting position.

“William!” he cried, “You’ve come to rescue me!”

William’s face didn’t change expression, but he brought up a single finger to his lips; signaling Grell to be quiet. Grell nodded in understanding as William stepped closer and looked around the room.

“I think the button to turn off the shackles is over there,” Grell whispered, as he pointed to the far wall.

Instead of looking towards the wall, William turned and glared at Grell. “You’re pathetic,” he spat, and he kicked Grell in the chest.

The sound of ribs breaking filled the small space, and Grell cried out in pain as he fell backwards. “Will, darling,” Grell gasped, “What….what are you doing?”

William smiled darkly as he stomped down on the broken ribs. “What am I doing?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual, “I’m just taking care of my one big problem.” He stomped over to the button and activated the shackles; pinning Grell to the floor by his hands and neck.

Before Grell could say or do anything else, William dropped down to his knees and shoved Grell’s legs apart. He unzipped his pants as he lined himself up.

“No,” Grell begged weakly, “No. Not like that. Please, Will.”

William only laughed as he shoved in roughly. Blood seeped for Grell’s already abused entrance, but William didn’t seem to notice as he began to move in a punishing rhythm.

“You’re not William,” Grell said.

There was no answer as ‘William’ continued moving; shoving in harder and deeper. Grell tried to close his eyes and turn away, but ‘William grabbed his face and pried open his eyes. “Look at me,” he hissed. His breath was horrible.

“You’re not William,” Grell repeated, but there was still no answer as the attacked continued. The pain was intense, and Grell was on the verge of passing out, but unfortunately remained conscious though the entire affair. He could only choke back his tears, as the fake William finished.

“I’m so surprised you didn’t cum for me,” William said, but it was King’s voice that now filled the room. William’s hand began to transform as he ran it down Grell’s chest; the claws digging into his dry flesh, “but I can take care of that for you.”

Grell screamed as his blood splattered through the room as the claws cut into him. Still smiling with William’s face, King turned off the magnetic field and left the room.

As the door slid shut, Grell rolled onto his side and, for the first time since he had been capture, he cried.

 

* * *

 

William hadn’t been home except for a few minutes when there was a loud knock upon his door. Still dressed in his work attire, he opened the door only to see Desiree standing there with a large book in her arms.

“Hello, William,” she said, “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” William said, as he stepped aside. Once she had entered, he shut and locked the door. “What do you have there?”

She smiled mischievously. “A book from the forbidden section of your library,” she answered.

William gaped. “You can’t just waltz in there and take those books,” he said.

“I figured as much since it’s called the forbidden section,” she answered.

“Desiree, you need to take things more seriously.”

Setting the heavy book down on the kitchen table, she turned towards William once again. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I wasn’t caught, and if I had I would have just claimed ignorance. Either way, that’s not important. What is important is that I did find out something about reapers becoming demons.”

William rushed to the table. “What did you find out?” he asked.

Desiree opened the book to a marked page, but it became apparent she had remembered much of the story by heart. “One of the earliest cases was that of a female recovery agent by the name of Christina Johann,” she explained, “She disappeared while out on assignment. The soul she had been sent to collect was lost, and there was no trace of her. There was a brief investigation since it was believed she might have simply deserted, but no one found anything. A week later, she comes stumbling back into our realm. The reports stated she looked like hell - torn, bloodied clothes, massive injuries, and the like. She told a story that she had been captured by a demon and take to a different realm. It was assumed to be Hell, although there was no way of knowing for sure.” She flipped a few pages.

“Did she say much else?” William asked.

“No,” Desiree said, “It was clear she had been tortured and raped, but she didn’t give any specifics. Everyone was relieved that she had returned, she was given time off. No one was that concerned because it seemed like the worst was over. However, she soon began to change.”

“In what way?” William asked.

“Mood and personality changes mostly,” Desiree answered, “She didn’t like the same things she had before. She seemed angry and anxious, but everyone figured it was just the trauma. A month or so passes when she suddenly just changes. In front of other workers, her eyes go all red and they say she was just changed. There’s not a lot of description, but it was clear she had become a demon.”

William took a deep breath as he sat down heavily in a chair. “What happened to her?” he finally asked.

Desiree seemed hesitant as she bit her lower lip. “She had to be killed,” she answered after a minute, “It was too dangerous to allow her to be free in this realm, and she could still use her scythe. That’s one reason that demons like to do this to reapers. Not only do they get to corrupt their enemies, they create a creature that’s demonic while still having a reaper’s abilities.”

“Is that what I have to look forward to?” questioned William, as he stared blankly across the room, “Either I will never see Grell again, or I will have to see him killed if I can’t do it by my own hands.”

Desiree sat down. “We don’t know if any of this has happened to Sutcliff,” she said, “Yes, it has happened, but never on this scale. Plus, there’s no guarantees that it happens every time. There’s a lot of speculation here. Apparently a reaper has to be tortured and injected with demonic fluid, but there’s also thought that the reaper must be completely broken for it to take effect. From what you told me about Sutcliff, he won’t be easy to break.”

“No,” William agreed, “and that might make it even worse for him. He’ll stand up to those demons, if they have him. He’ll stand up again and again. If he doesn’t break, he’ll only continued to be tortured.”

Desiree shook her head but didn’t say anything as they sat there silently at the table.

 

* * *

  
  
All the demons were crowded in the main room where Grell had been laid upon a rusted, metal table like some sort of offering. The look in his eyes were blank as he lay there. There didn’t appear to even be any need for ropes, chains, or shackles as only Grell’s eyes moved - slowly blinking as he lay there.

Ronald, who appeared to be the only reaper still alive, who hanging next to Grell, but he was even more unrecognizable. His face has been slashed repeatedly, so that only the area around his left eye had been untouched. His hair was dirty and sticking out in all directions, and his body was all but emaciated. Blood and dirt covered his skin; clinging to the bruises and gashes. He wasn’t looking around or even staring blankly. He was only hanging limply as the demons gathered about.

King walked to the center of the room, and the other demons began to laugh and cheer until he raised his arms to signal them to remain silence. “I stand before you all today,” he said, “a success!”

The demons roared with approval as a whip slashed through the air. It cut into Ronald’s already torn flesh, but he neither moved nor whimpered.

“We have captured many of the reapers’ scythes,” King continued, “and we even found one who was strong enough in spirit to be a challenge to break. Now, let us begin the final ceremony.”

A large, hulking demon with skin like rotted bark stepped forward with a stolen scythe. With one swift motion, he drew it across Ronald’s neck. The young reaper made a small sound that almost sounded like a sigh of relief as his eyes rolled back and his head dropped to his chest.

The spray of blood splattered across Grell’s face like a lacy, red mask, but he didn’t move. He didn’t even turn in the direction or look at Ronald.

King’s smile was unrivaled as he moved to stand between Grell’s legs. “He’s now truly ready to receive my seed and become one of us,” he said, “He’ll rise again even stronger than before.”

There was another great cheer as King shoved into Grell and began to pump. Grell’s body moved with the demon’s actions, but his expression never changed as his eyes remained as blank as buttons.

King moaned with pleasure. “This one truly is special,” he said, “and soon all of you will have your turn. Split him open! He will heal and be even stronger for your efforts.” He laughed as his pace quickened.

The demons crowded hungrily around as a few reached out to touch and stroke Grell’s skin. All were obviously eager, but they hung back as King had his turn. Grell’s body continued to move as his hand flopped to the side and his mouth dropped open. He looked like a broken doll that a child had lost.

Except for the single tear in his eye.


	5. Day 30

**Day 30**

The flakes of rust and dirt floating in the air; dancing around the dead, mangled bodies of reapers that hung like perverse decorations. The mood was light as the demons milled about; some laughing and talking although there was always an edge to their interactions. Fights routinely broke out among them, although King kept things mostly in order. In the center of this barely controlled chaos, Grell walked slowly with the jerky, uncertain movements of a broken marionette.

One of the demons had placed a robe across Grell’s pale, scared shoulders, but it was more of a mocking gesture than one of kindness. It was a red and gold silk robe - the kind of robe that Grell would have liked in the past, but now it hung awkwardly on his too skinny frame and brought attention to his dirty, knotted hair. It hung open at the moment and provided him no modesty as he slowly walked among the hoarde. Occasionally one of the demons would look at him as he moved passed. He was still their toy and King’s pet, but it seemed as if the thrill of using him was quickly fading. Now they only watched.

And waited.

Grell didn’t appear to notice those that glanced his way as he swayed unsteadily among the group. He did this frequently. After some time, he would collapse in an exhausted heap, but he would typically walk aimlessly for hours.

Or at least, it appeared aimless.

He stumbled as he walked closer to the locked door that two demons, armed with stolen scythes, were standing in front of as if guarding. Neither of the two beasts were looking at his direction as they continued in their own conversation. The one closest to Grell, who had the appearance of a young, blonde man with small black horns sticking up from among the fair strands of hair, was holding a traditional scythe loosely in his long fingers.

All of Grell’s clumsiness and awkwardness faded in a breath as he lunged forward with sudden grace and agility and ripped the scythe from the demon’s hands. He turned to look at Grell with widened eyes, but he had no time to really react as Grell slashed with the weapon; cutting the demon’s body in half. His companion made a surprised gasp as he tried to turn with his own scythe, which had been customised with a longer handle, but it was clear he was unaccustomed to such a weapon as his movement were clumsy. A cold smile graced Grell’s bruised and bloodied face as easily dodged the clumsy counterattack and drove his blade into the neck of the second demon. Dark, foul blood spurted and splashed as the demon’s head fell to the rusted floor.

“What’s going on here?” King roared from the far side of the room. His normally handsome face was contorted into that of a dark beast with anger as a dark mist began to surround his body. “Put down the scythe, my pet,” he growled, “or you will suffer.”

There was little time to react, as demons were already rushing Grell, who had no means of escape - except for the scythe in his hand. He quickly jumped back away from the demons to create a portal.

“I told you,” he said, “I’m no one’s pet.” With those words said, he jumped into the portal and immediately disappeared.

There had been no time to create an exact portal, and Grell soon found himself standing in a dirty alleyway somewhere in the city. It stank of old vomit and piss, and the coldest rain was falling steadily from the gray sky.

Grell laughed maniacally as he threw back his head so the rain could streak down his face. Rivlets of blood, dirt, and rust began to run down his body and onto the ground where it mixed seamlessly with the other filth. He was alone, but he was free. There were no demons in sight.

He laughed until his throat suddenly seized. Collapsing against a nearby wall, his stomach began to convulse as hot water filled his mouth. He spit and gagged, as he rested his forehead against the cool, rough bricks. After several minutes, it had passed, and he managed to stand on his own shaky legs without leaning against the wall. Gathering his strength, he closed the robe tightly and glanced about quickly to ensure he was still alone. Seeing that no one was about, he created a second portal to take him back to his realm.

He was met with a brilliant white light, and two academy students with shocked pale faces. As he collapsed onto the ground, he smiled. “I’m back. I made it back,” he whispered, but his voice was too soft for anyone to hear.

 

 

* * *

 

Dispatch was almost back to normal. William stood in the middle of the floor, slowly looking around at his subordinates. Everyone appeared to be hard at work as typewriters were singing their uneven, choppy songs and chatting was at a minimum. He nodded in appreciation for all the hard work before turning to look at Grell’s small office.

It had been assigned to Desiree. It was doubtful she had been told this, and William didn’t say anything about it as she moved into the small space. Grell’s scythe had been moved to storage and all other signs of the vibrant reaper was now absent as Desiree frowned over a report. With a steady stride, William walked to the doorway of the small office.

“Are you adjusting well, Mademoiselle Lefevre?” he asked, opting to be more formal in his tone.

She looked up at him. “As well as can be expected, I suppose Mr. Spears.” She afforded him a slight smile before picking up a stack of papers. “Although your subordinates don’t seem particularly friendly.”

He closed the door partially behind him as he moved closer. “Perhaps they are intimidated by you,” he suggested.

Her smile became almost predatory. “Are they scared of me?” she asked.

“You can be a bit aggressive,” he said, “It’s a good trait in the field, but it’s not always well understood in the office.”

“Should I change then?” she asked, leaning back and eyeing him, “Try to act all meek and mild for the boys?”

“No,” came the immediate answer, “I don’t want you to change, nor do I think you should.”

“You don’t?” She set down the file. “Mon petit etoile, are we having a moment here?”

William took a step back, but before he could answer there was a rap on the partially closed door. Turning around, he saw Miss Fletcher standing there wringing her hands slightly. “Yes?” he asked.

“I hate to interrupt you, sir,” she said, “but a young recruit just informed me of something I feel might be rather important.”

“What is it, Miss Fletcher?”

She stepped into the room and glanced briefly at Desiree. “It’s not official, Mr. Spears,” Miss Fletcher began, “but Calloway was at the infirmary, and he heard that Sutcliff has been found.”

“What?” William’s voice was far louder than necessary, and a slight hush fell over the rest of the office as a few turned to look towards the small office.

“Apparently he managed to make it back to our realm some time last night, but it’s not announced openly.” She pushed back a stray hair as she dropped her voice so that it was barely above a whisper. “I thought you’d like to know, sir.”

“Thank you,” William said; his voice struggling to remain steady, “I’ll...I’ll head over there now to...check.”

Miss Fletcher quickly stepped out of the way as William pushed back. He walked quickly through dispatch; garnering a few stares along the way. His pace quickened steadily so that he was running.

Desiree silently watched him leave before she picked up another file.

 

 

* * *

 

The infirmary was a square, squat building shoved crudely in amongst the taller and more elegant buildings. It looked almost as if it were merely an afterthought. Perhaps it had been as reapers so rarely became sick or injured to the point of needing medical intervention. Typically, a little time was all a reaper needed to heal from even the most serious injuries, but there was always those special cases.

William paused ever so briefly at the bottom of the steps leading to the toadlike building. The last time he had been here had been after Alan had had a particularly bad episode with the thorns, and they had been the only two in the office at the time. William had to bring Alan here to recover, but he had stayed around. He had later admitted he found the building to be rather depressing.

It looked no better today as he walked up the steps and opened the door. The colors inside were neutral and rather muted, which gave the room a rather dull appearance that failed to provide any comfort. There were a few seats inside what was set aside as a waiting area, and a desk near one wall. A young reaper was setting at the desk; pursuing a novel with interest as she hadn’t even looked up at William. She turned a page and continued reading as she paused only long enough to push back a stray, brown hair that had escaped from the loose bun on the back of her neck.

William cleared his throat and stepped forward. The young woman looked up at him, but before she could speak, a nearby door opened and a rather tall, lanky figure stepped into view.

“Spears,” greeted the man, as he held out his hand, “I trust you remember me.”

“Of course, Dr. Brown,” William said. He shook the offered hand. “I’ve come to talk to you about-”

Doctor Brown held up his hand to silence William as he interrupted him. “I know,” he said, “Let’s step into my office.” He smiled wildly as he opened the door wider to invite William inside, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which seemed to dart about nervously.

William nodded as he stepped into what the man had called his office. The doctor shut the door and motioned to a chair. “Have a seat,” he said, as he maneuvered around William to sit on the opposite side of a desk that seemed to have been almost wedged into the narrow room.

William did as he was asked and sat down in the seat as he couldn’t help but look around the tiny space.

“I know my office is small,” Doctor Brown said, “I believe it used to be a janitor’s closet. It seemed that no one thought there would be a need for a permanent doctor here. He flashed William another of his nervous smiles. “But I know you didn’t here to talk about me and my office woes. You came to ask about Sutcliff.”

“Is he here?” William asked, perhaps just a bit too eagerly, “What I mean, sir, is it true that he has been discovered?”

Doctor Brown nodded; his wild, white hair bobbing with the motion.  “I was hoping to keep the matter quiet for a bit longer,” he said, “but I knew the rumors would run wild. I was expecting to see you in fact.” He reached into a box on his desk and pulled out a peppermint stick. “Peppermint?” he offered.

“No thanks,” William said, “Now, about Sutcliff.”

“He’s here,” Doctor Brown clarified, “Two academy students found him this morning. I’ve treated him for his injuries, although he is currently under sedation.”

“So, he’s okay?”

“I think he’ll be fine...physically,” Doctor Brown answered, “As you know, our bodies heal rather quickly, and his wounds are already healing. So, physically, I feel he’ll be able to return to work soon.”

“You keep saying physically,” William said, “What aren’t you telling me.”

The doctor chewed on his peppermint stick for a moment as he looked at William evenly. “I’m not going to lie to you, Spears,” he said, “There’s no way of knowing what sort of torment Sutcliff endured. The physical injuries tell quite a story, but they can only tell so much.” He took a deep breath. “And that’s not all.”

“What else are you worried about?”

Doctor Brown stood up, but his shoulder slumped so that he looked like he was closing in on himself in the small space. “Sutcliff is the first to return from such an incident,” he said, “There will be questions, and those in certain positions will not be kind. They will have demands, and I don’t know if Sutcliff will have the answers they want.” He leaned forward. “I don’t think Sutcliff is out of danger just yet.”

William felt his face pale and he took a deep breath. “What should I do?”

“He’s going to need...need a friend,” Doctor Brown managed; his voice shaky and uncertain, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” William said.

Dr. Brown smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He walked carefully around the desk and opened the door once more. “That’s all I can ask.”

“One more question. When can I see Sutcliff?”

“He is still sedated,” Dr. Brown said, “But he should be able to have visitors tomorrow. Perhaps come around lunch, and we’ll see.”

They stepped back into the lobby where the young woman was still reading her novel with great interest. Dr. Brown opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he shut it quickly as he looked out the glass door. “You better go out the side entrance,” he said, it’s to the left here.”

William glanced towards the doors and saw two nearly identical dressed individuals walking swiftly towards the infirmary. It was clear they had been sent from Upper Management,so he simply nodded before he slipped down the hall to the left and quickly walked towards the door. As he opened the door, he could hear Dr. Brown’s voice, which now had a cold, clipped quality.

“What can I do you for you gentlemen?”

 

 

* * *

 

Grell awoke slowly; struggling to open his eyes against the light. An off white ceiling and matching walls slowly came into view, and he smiled slightly. “Never thought I’d find such a boring room comforting,” he said. His voice sounded hoarse, and he couldn’t help but cough.

“Easy,” a voice said nearby, “Take your time. No need to rush.”

Grell turned his head and saw the doctor standing nearby. “Dr. Brown?” he asked, “Am I in the infirmary?”

“Yes,” Dr. Brown said, as he approached Grell’s bed, “You were brought in earlier today? How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” Grell replied immediately, “My head hurts and…” His voice trailed off as he suddenly looked away.

“And?” prompted Dr. Brown.

“Never mind,” Grell said, “It’s not important.”

“Yes it is. You need to be honest with me. It’s the only way I can help you.”

Grell suddenly turned his head to look at the doctor directly. “I’m half afraid this is a dream or an illusion. In a moment, you’ll turn into King and start…” Grell bit off his words as he blinked quickly. “I...I’m just afraid to relax right now. I don’t want to be tricked again.”

Dr. Brown touched Grell’s shoulder gently, which caused Grell to jump slightly. “This is all real,” he said in a calm tone, “No more tricks. You’re home now.” He smiled gently. “In fact, you’re quite the celebrity. Everyone is talking about you.”

“Really?” Grell asked.

Dr. Brown nodded. “I didn’t think you were ready for visitors today, but perhaps tomorrow,” he said, “I know Mr. Spears is eager to see you. He stopped by today. I told him that tomorrow during lunch might be best.”

The change in Grell was immediate. He suddenly smiled as his eyes danced happily, but then, as suddenly as a storm cloud moving across the path of the sun, his face darkened. “I can’t see Will,” he said, “Not like this.”

“I can get some nurses to come in and help you clean up,” Dr. Brown offered, “You can really wash your hair yet, but we do have some dry shampoo and they can help you with the tangles.”

“I’m not talking about my hair,” Grell said, but he reached up with his left hand and attempted to run his hand through his matted locks, “I just don’t want Will to see me. Like this.” He exhaled loudly. “I like to play the damsel, but I don’t want to look weak, helpless and…” His voice trailed off as if he was mentally searching for the right word.

Dr. Brown waited for a few minutes. “He really does want to see you,” he said, “Might do you both some good. It might be the first step to getting things back to normal.”

“Things will never return to the way they were before,” Grell said quietly.

“What should I tell Spears then?” Dr. Brown asked, “It really is your choice.”

Grell turned his head to look back at the doctor. “I suppose I should see him,” Grell said, “since he does want to see me so badly.” It was such a quick change in mood, but Grell’s smile was nervous and his hands were trembling ever so slightly as he spoke. “But I do want to clean up a bit.”

“Of course,” Dr. Brown said, “I’ll send someone in later.” He patted Grell’s shoulder again, and this time Grell didn’t jump as much at the physical contact. “Now, rest. You’ll need it.”

“I don’t feel that tired,” Grell said, “Besides, I don’t want to sleep.” Despite his words, his eyes were beginning to close.

“Rest,” Dr. Brown reiterated as he left the room. He walked down the hall to arrange some some help for Grell to clean up, but he knew there was very little they could do to ease his troubles.

 

 

* * *

 

The conversations around them were animated and cheerful. Glasses clinked as drinks were consumed and a heavy smoke filled the air. The Brim Reaper had never been more active.

And William simply sat in the middle of all it staring blankly into space.

Desiree took a long drag of her cigarette and blew out a smoke ring that blended in with all the rest as she watched William. “I thought you’d be in a celebratory mood tonight,” she finally said, as she picked up her beer and took a drink.

William blinked a few times as if he was waking from a dream. “Pardon?” he asked.

“I said that I thought you’d be in a celebratory mood tonight. After all, Sutcliff has returned. Isn’t that reason to celebrate?” She took another drink; draining her mug.

He shook his head. “I think it might be too early to celebrate.”

“Because of what that doctor said?”

“Yes, that and other things.” William picked up his glasses but he only looked down at the foamy liquid without drinking it. “I just have a really bad feeling.”

Desiree frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you,” she said, “You were always more worried about facts. The facts are that Sutcliff has returned, I think that’s what you have to focus on.” Reaching over, she took William’s hand. “That doctor said that Sutcliff needs a friend. I shouldn’t think that should be a problem for you.”

William stood up suddenly. “I should go home,” he said, “and get some rest. Tomorrow is an important day.” He looked down at Desiree and nodded. “Thank you for everything,” he said.

She leaned back in her seat. “You know I’m here for you,” she said, “I always was.”

“And I appreciate it,” he said, “Good night.” Straightening his coat, he made his way through the crowd to leave The Brim Reaper. No one even seem to notice him.

“Besides,” Desiree said to herself, “I can be your friend too.” Raising her hand, she ordered another drink as William disappeared into the night.


End file.
